


Act 2.5

by LoSzeged



Category: Hello Neighbor (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 03:48:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20988323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoSzeged/pseuds/LoSzeged
Summary: A realistic interpretation of (possible) events taking place immediately after Act 2 in Hello Neighbour.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author Note:  
I wrote this Prior to Act 1.5  
But I've since come up with many new horror ideas, and a completely different interpretation from this one.  
However, I may not post this new Act 2.5 Horror story. (Because I don't want to infringe on something (similar to what) the devs may (be) working on)  
I didn't want to just leave anyone who had been reading hanging though👏So since this version was already ready to post, here it is✊ Let's get out of that house.

Panting, arms flailing, eyes darting and disoriented, Nicky ran from that closed off prison. The madhouse that had kept him.

("Home--Home is---Is--Street--Across the street-")

So close, yet so far away it'd been.

Stumbling to a stop on the porch steps and looking back he gasps harder, terror spiking at the creak of the gateway, Mr Peterson following him out in confusion, uncertainty.

As shattering glass continued to pierce the air he stopped, looking back at the house, reluctantly reshutting the gate, his gaze, warningly meeting Nicky's fearful eyes.

The moment he was clear, Nicky threw himself at the door, still gasping for breath through fatigue and terror-- "AaaaaAh!"

Frantically shouting he stumbles across the house floor. Wanting to scream for Mom and Dad, the words wouldn't come to him.

"Ah---hahh…"

Looking around the living room wildly, noone stirred. Not a sound throughout the house.

Doing nothing to ease the overflowing panic that began whipping higher.

"Hh-!" Pounding and running up the stairs he searches the rooms frantic.

To silence. Noone was here. Noone's here.

"Aaron--"

(He's still in there. He's alone now. I)

"Aaron--"

He knew what he needed to do, almost tripping as he turns around for the stairs, rushing back down them and scrambling for the phone, snatching it up with trembling hands.

("911, 911, 911--")

He repeats in mind anxiously waiting for the receiver to come in, barely giving them a chance to speak

"HELP! HELP ME!"

"Where are you? What's going on?"

Immediate questions, Nicky's brain scrambles to think of the place, the name, an address-- (what's-)

"Ni--Nine--Nine ten f-f-friendly- court-"

"910 friendly court?"

"Hh-- yeah, yeah."

"In-?"

"Raven Brooks he--"

"Are you in danger right now? An officer is being sent to your location now what's happening?"

"Had me locked in, basement, and Aaron--"

"Try to calm down, Who had you in a basement?"

"M-my Neighbour. Mi-mister, Peterson."

"What's your name?"

"Nicholas- Nicholas Roth"

There was a moment of silence, maybe they had on record of him being missing. Maybe, just maybe--

"Police will be there soon."

The dispatcher comes back in startling him, "Can you stay on the line? Are you safe?"

"I--Escaped, I'm--I'm back home-"

The words were hard to believe, even standing here. "But Aaron-- Aaron's still, he had him there--He's still there"

Probably causing hell and running for his life at this very moment. Now that it were just him and Mr Peterson there. Focus solely on him. After what they'd done, Nicky feared for his safety.

"You're saying someone else is still in there?"

"Aaron. Yes"

"Peterson? Aaron Peterson?"

(They knew. They knew.)

"Yes he wasn't missing he was in his dad's basement he wouldn't let us leave and--and--"

The words catch in his mouth, brain still spinning like mad

(And what? What? What do I even--)

"Got it. Stay inside your home, and don't go anywhere."

\----------------

As the Roth's car turned onto Friendly Court, Luanne’s hand shot to her mouth in a gasp as both her and her husband's eyes widen.

Nearly slamming on the pedals, Jay slowed to a stop well away from the flashing lights of 3 police vehicles parked outside the fence across from their house.

"What--"

Speechless, neither could form another word.

"You think…" Luanne’s voice was nearly inaudible when she finally broke silence, the though so devastatingly--- So twisted-- So--

Jay closes his mouth that had fallen ajar in cautious wonder. Hands still gripping the steering wheel.

"No..Idea…"

He's slow to speak the words, and both freeze on what to do.

It'd been months since Nicky left/had gone missing, No one knew what happened. The police thought he'd run away. But… But what if… What if..

"Jay--" Luanne’s voice shook as she leaned a bit towards him, barely taking her eyes off the street scene.

It was a hard take.

3 Police cars were no joke. Whatever was happening, it was serious business.

He puts a hand on the engine and parks it off.

The safest bet would be to wait it out.

Neither of them spoke it out loud, but both wondered who could have phoned them in? For what? The strange things that had happened…

Nicky's disappearance… That neighbour…

That fence…

As he was about to reach for a notebook, Jay freezes. Luanne flinches. As an officer leaves the gated scene and headed across the street towards Their house.

Intimidated or no, Luanne pops the car door, quickly followed by Jay.

Now it was Their business.

Practically running to the house they stop dead in the street, hearing whining, and a struggle coming from the fenced in yard. Keeping clear of the police cars and on their side of the street, they couldn't help but stare as the door reopened and multiple officers escort Theodore Peterson out in handcuffs behind his back. One on either side of him.

Jay's stomach drops.

Luanne’s features twist in disgust.

But before they could say a word or edge in a thought of what might have happened, the officer who had entered their home re-emerged, and a voice squeaked out, without thinking a second, Nicky ran down the few steps and across the yard, throwing out his arms to hug them to the devastating shock of both parents.

"Nicky??" "You're---"

The police said nothing to intervene, a polarising emotional to the scene they'd just witnessed.

"....." Theodores wide, pained eyes fell on the Roth's embrace. Broken of any feeling, the firm grip on his arm and shoulder was like nothing, as the officer shook down.

"Get in the vehicle."

"....."

Stone to their words, he couldn't take his gaze off them, as the family rubs their eyes of emotional tears and collected their selves.

With his guardians hands, Nicky turns back to see Mr Peterson bound. To see what he'd wanted to see months ago.

The look in the boys eyes, frightened. Yet strong now. Distancing. Stabbed like a knife.

"Get in the car!"

The officer shoves again, harder. Bashing Theodores face to the roof of the vehicle, with no fight left to resist, they manipulated him into the back of the car. As the Roth's watched with judging stares.

"Please head inside." The nearest officer to them motioned, to Jay's protest-they didn't have any answers- "but--"

"You can be assured we'll be following up with you in the next few days.”

Nicky turns at the officers word without question, and headed back for the door, leaving both him and Luanne to follow.

His head dropped forwards, Theodore watches them retreat into the house with unspeakable sadness. Turning his head the other way towards his violated home as the car started up. Jerking up at the sight of the last officers leading Aaron out. With increasing panic at the realisation they weren't even bringing him here, to the same place.

"Settle down- Hey-!" The office beside him put out a hand as Theodore struggled to stay seated.

Aarons turns his head up from the ground, meeting his frantic gaze with a look opposite to that. One of pure emptiness. Shaking his head to his father's distress and turning himself away from it. Just before the police began to drive off.

Separating one family, while another rejoiced.

\-----------------

And Nicky didn't know where to begin.

With everything that had happened.

Unable to believe still they hadn't seen what had been….

He settled for just being thankful. For now.

That he was back home. His real home. Not the one of twisted Fantasy Mr Peterson had forced upon and given to him.

They regretted it now, not listening to him, did they ever. And that's what made it okay.

Knowing they cared, and hearing their apologies.

\-----

Worst of all Jay felt to blame.

He'd seen nothing legitimately wrong with Mr Peterson's behaviour. He was just…. Different. And he'd accepted that.

Believed him when he denied knowing anything of Nicky's whereabouts. And fallen for the lies that he gave in answer. If only he'd seen through it…

\--------

As the case unfolded, Police transferred Aaron to a temporary secure holding. Returning to the Peterson house, boarded, with shattered glass, and items strewn all over the floors and yard, broken doors, locks and keys. It was nothing short of a mess. With a small team of officers, it'd take a few days to properly go through everything left in order to find evidence, information and bear witness to what is the deterioration of a man bent on maintaining and keeping a sense of family and normalcy. Which became anything but for his son and the boy involved.

\-------

Stripped of all of it. Separated from Aaron, and faced with the drab walls and crushing inevitable of police questioning, his will destroyed.

Peterson beat his head against the stone wall.

Death seemed a suitable option to this failure.

It earned him even stricter, 24 hour surveillance and a no removal on the handcuffs.

\-----------

\-----------

\-----------

The investigator introduced himself as Rowan Walter, when he first sat down to start discussing the situation. Which couldn't even be considered conversation.

Question after question and barely an inch of progress. It was excruciating.

"Mr Peterson."

His voice, and gaze straight. "You admit to being familiar with Nicholas Roth. Can you describe him for me?"

"......" he turns his head as if not really understanding.

"Can you describe him?" Rowan repeats.

"A smart boy he is. Nicholas. Curious. Before that, Aaron never had a friend like him."

………

The explanation, and answers he gave were puzzling. He didn't seem to be making things up, and yet, his answers were so strange. In this circumstance-- Does he not realise what he did was wrong? It doesn't seem like it….

"Where is Aaron?"

Theodore questions.

"Safe."

He doesn't believe that. Rowan straightens his arms, putting his hands on the table, pensively. He leans a bit more forward.

"Do you understand what you're here for? Mr Peterson?"

"........."

Again, silence. Just dead silence.

Rowan sighs, having half expected this wouldn't be so easy a interrogation.

There was a reason all of Raven Brooks avoided him.

"You want this to be settled sooner rather than later. Don't you?"

"....." Stretching and crinkling his nose and lip, Theodore turns his eyes back towards the investigator, trembling slightly,

".......Pardon?"

The look in his eyes didn't suggest he felt guilty. Nothing like it at all. An uneasy confusion, maybe, but nothing close to guilt. Or evidence he knew what was so bad about what he'd done.

("I'll try one more Avenue…") Rowan resolves mentally.

"Your son had been filed as missing, you were aware of that?"

Even if there was no reply, he was sure he'd known.

"Yet that wasn't the case? You knew his whereabouts?"

"...." Fidgeting slightly, Theodore struggled to bring up a worded response relevant to necessary.

"I didn't, do anything, to Hurt them--- Just protect."

"Protect?"

He nods,

"Alright. Can you tell me Why you felt they needed to be 'protected'?"

"....unh?"

"Why did you feel they needed to be protected?"

"...Protected. from danger. Yes."

"What danger?"

"....Everything."

Theodores tone changed then. To one more wary, and distrusting. As if he'd come to some sudden realisation this situation was exactly one of those dangers. Those things he'd wanted to prevent.

Rowan knew when to back down. The search team had yet to finish reporting back on the investigation of the Peterson house. So now, that he'd gotten some inkling of the answers, and now that the gaze stares at him with hate unblinking,

He knew it was time to go.

"We'll pick this conversation up another time."

He refrains from even adding the 'I hope you'll be more inclined to speak with us next time.'

Because Theodore had shifted. Like a different person had come into him entirely. One that would be worse to deal with.


	2. 2

"Aah!"

"Nicky?"

Hearing him shout, Luanne and Jay ran to the bathroom concerned "what is it?"

"Uh..."

Turning around he wasn't sure how to explain that his own reflection in the mirror had startled him pretty bad.

He hadn't seen himself in months, and... Looking at his messy hair, pale thin skin, dark bags around his eyes and bruises was horrifying...

\-------------

Non-admittingly the Raven Brooks PD had long dreaded the day they'd have to take in a serious case. It wasn't very often they needed to.

In a way, they realised they may have been complacent. Their waving away Nicky's case previously, now it wasn't just about the 2 missing Peterson children. It was a case about one of them still missing (Mya). A case about forced detaination and possible child abuse/neglect. And a case of Kidnapping with forced detaination--- Towards a man that seemingly could not understand what was wrong with the things he'd done.

And the kidnapped-- police had all the records of Nicky's spying, invasion of property, and even theft he'd committed towards Mr Peterson alone.

It wasn't a simple, 'he was abducted'.

It was-- He repeatedly and consistently, invaded and recorded a man's privacy and broke into the house. Despite being told by the police and his parents (more than once) to stay away from him.

\----

At the station, Rowan was quick to follow up his strained meeting with inquiry; "Pull up any records we have on Mr T.M. Peterson."

"Now? The search team hasn't gotten results back in to us yet."

"I need to look at something."

"O-kay.."

\--------

While the investigation continued in the house. The officers had returned contact with Nicky and his parents, to both apologise for their lack of action earlier, and to get his accounts of the story.

Problem was, it wasn't so simple to explain.

It was insane.

Trying to-- in front of not only officer Carter, but his parents--- Well...

"He ever physically harm you?"

"......."

Nicky stares at the wood floor in silence. Worry swirling up uncomfortably in both Luanne and Jay

"Nicky--"

Carter puts out a hand, "Let him speak,"

They weren't sure if it was a mark of how difficult it'd been--- or something else, but his verbosity had taken a serious dip from what they remembered. Struggling to find words.

"He'd grab me if I ran. Or if I didn't go with him. Or did something….'wrong'."

"What do you mean by 'wrong'?"

"That he didn't like."

"......"

"He put me in solitary confinement.”

Nicky doesn't look at the faces of his mother or father, the disbelief or whatever their feelings were he couldn't handle seeing.

"Punishment for what?"

The officer asks.

“Planning an escape, breaking something…. I think."

"How long were you in 'solitary confinement?'"

"I dunno. A couple days. A week? I have no idea."

You couldn't tell when it was night or when it was day down there.

"Aaron let me out and… That was before I actually escaped."

"What was different about then? How did you escape?"

"We'd been sort of planning it for awhile. Trying to figure out what we'd need and where it was... We couldn't just wander around looking because he didn't let us out of sight when we were above the basement. There was only so many places we could go."

"So he tried to stop you from escaping?"

"Well. Yeah."

Pretty obvious answer on that one.

"So you two worked together?"

Officer Carter asks, trying to get a good idea of what happened.

"....Sorta. I didn't see him though. After he opened my door he went off."

"Right... So you don't know where he was after that?"

"Not exactly no. I was running around, just trying to get things done... We thought Mr Peterson was going to leave, so there'd be time to do it, but... It didn't work out that way."

"I see..."

Tapping his pen on his report, Carter assessed the answers he'd been able to get so far, and what still needed to be filled in.

"....Was there ever anything he wanted from you? Do you think? Did he ever approach or use you in some way?"

The question made Nicky feel sick.

"Would you prefer if your parents stepped out of the room?"

It could be hard to say some things in front of them… But Nicky shook his head.

"He… Wanted a family. For me to consider that place 'home'."

"What--??" Luanne gasps in different disbelief, as Jay shifts uncomfortably, it wasn't his place to speak, but, it made sense in a way. Theodore had lost his own family, so he tried to make Nicky a replacement for what was missing..

"He'd pretend like everything was normal.…"

He holds his arm as comfort to the thoughts that baffled.

"Could you explain what you mean a bit more?"

Carter asks softly

"......"

Nicky shakes his head " I don't think I can."

How do you explain that? Dillusional madness?

How do you explain… Without hurting?

"If you can't tell us everything right now, that's alright. We understand that it's difficult for you."

"Heh….heh heh…"

Wryly, Nicky could only breath an uneasy scoff at the statement.

(Really? They understood? What it's like to be passed off as paranoid, abandoned by your friends, accused of things you didn't do? To do the things he'd done? To be locked inside a basement-- and find it never ends? To be wandering the dark maze of hallways and deadends wondering where it stops? To be face to face with mannequins that tower over your head, To be 'welcomed home' by a mad man who expects you to enjoy your stay? To feel that confliction of hate, fear, and Unease as he makes you his new 'son', taking no arguement? To realise that you'd spent so long looking for answers and then hear your best friend call himself a monster and say he killed his own sister? )

Sister. Mya. He tries not to show his hesitance as the thought reared in mind. Their gonna ask about his sister. At some point they will. They won't find her there. And they'll wonder, because Aaron was reported missing, and hadn't been, so where was Mya? Also considered missing?

Nicky prayed Aaron didn't tell them the half truth. He hadn't meant to do it.

Would the police understand that?

And more?

He doubted it.

He didn't get it either. Not entirely. Not everything.

\----------

At the Peterson house, the officers stationed there were still going through the premises. Gathering notes, pictures, documents, and collections of their discoveries.

Barely any food in the home. Blockades, gates, boarded up sections. A count of how many locks and keys they found. Cameras and beartraps. Metal barrels that filled spaces of the massive basement that Mr Peterson must have spent so much time on expanding and renovating. Fenced off areas and beds, miniature one room houses, giant paintings of the street with light fixtures attached behind them. Broken things and boxes, mannequins and disturbing arrangements. Machines and tracks, toys and mazes of halls.

The smell was quite something.

When they'd gone in, they'd expected to be shocked. But not this shocked.

"Hmmh..." As one of the officers that had seen the place over a year ago when they did a search (unsuccessfully), Keith knew it had changed alot since then.

The ground floor bedroom was gutted. It was practically empty now save for the bed, a desk stand, wardrobe, empty cupboard chair, and a beartrap in front of the (broken) window. It used to have alot more.

There was no wall there seperating the front door and hall to it either.

Peterson must've been renovating the whole place. Not just an add on.

But why?

They'd found Nickys hat in the kitchen, and having deduced there was no illogical place to search for things, checked through the mostly empty cupboards, opening boxes strewn everywhere, He turns his head, squinting his eyes as he picked out a single shoe from one also in the middle room.

Turning it over, he realised it was Nickys shoe. He'd been missing one.

"What in the world?"

Why would his other shoe be in this box?

He takes a photo of it and where it'd been found to ask just that later.

\--------------

Grumbling through the papers, trying to find the most important of and requested documents in Peterson's house proved to be a sort of nightmare. The randomness of where they'd found things had ticked them off that no place was an illogical place to put something to him.

The office was hardly any more organised, full of large diagrams and drawings, notes and papers.

Turning the desk, drawers and piles inside out in their search.

Pausing his skimming of folders one moment, the officer scans the print desperately

"Yes. Yes. Finally--"

Something useful. After a thousand papers.

\------------

Raven Brooks Police Department.

It'd been a few days since everything changed.

Theodore groans rolling his shoulder uncomfortably as the cuffs still bound his hands back. The inability to move them or his arms was maddening. As if everything else we're'nt enough.

"Rh...mnrh…"

Pacing the cell again he jerks his arms against the press of stiff metal that pulled into his wrist with each struggle.

"Ughn...nn….rmh…"

\------

A folder of freshly updated papers in hand, Rowan opened the door separating the office from the holding station, slowing his pace hearing the rustle and murmured grunts.

Coming upon the cell he stopped, watching Theodore, his back to him, wrestle with the cuffs and his stiffened movement.

Rowan knocks the folder on the metal bars with a double clang.

Snapping his attention back around warily.

\---------

It was time they had another meeting.

Normally they didn't keep people handcuffed. But frankly Rowan couldn't trust him yet to be free handed.

"These records were found in your home."

He begins, flipping and sliding the papers across the table towards him.

"Do you recognise them?"

"...." With a look of disgust and skepticism Theodore glances from the investigator to the papers, with growing aversion to the idea that not only were they defiling and ruining his home, but digging up his personal And secret information too.

"Mrhh…." Growling as he looks back up to Rowan's face, as the latter asks again;

"Do you recognise it?"

Theodore breathes angrily through closed teeth.

Without answer Rowan continues the question, "The documents suggest you're hard of hearing. Would that be accurate?"

"...." The response was as cold as it could get.

"Why do you bring this up? …… To Mock me??"

Rowan shakes his head, taking out a note he'd written in advance of their meeting.

"When did you last meet with Cecil Harris?"

"......"

He felt no reason to answer it.

But Rowan's resolve was already settled prior,

"We've contacted her about the situation for interpreting services. It's crucial that we have clear communication here."

Theodore dreads the idea, absolutely horrible.

Rolling his head back an aggrieved moan escapes his throat. He couldn't move his hands to cover his face to hide the ever deepening despair, so refused to look at the man again, and see the high likely judgement in his eyes.

It was uncertainty that Rowan had. Just watching.

As Theodore breathes loudly and stares off into the corner of the ceiling with large eyes, face twisted in a grimace. Strangled bits of a cry catching in his throat.

There was nothing Rowan could do but wait, tentatively lowering his wary gaze from him, and picks out an open page of his book and pen, glancing back across the table as he made note of this 'mentally unstable(?)' behaviour.

\-------------

"Rrm-mrm...hh…" Eventually attempting to restore his emotions to composure his despair devulged into a dead laugh.

Their eyes meeting a mere moment, the look on the investigators face only deepened Theodores anxious unease. "Huh huh...hh..huh..ha. ha-"

Jerking a shoulder and stomping a foot to the floor. "Hee hee hee ha ha ha hhh-"

Stop. If only it would stop.

He wanted to grasp his face in his hands to just Maybe stop it from making any more noise or strange expressions.

"Hh--hhh….hh--hhh…"

Breathing heavily with a wide off hinged stare.

The investigator could no longer hide his discomfort towards the sight he'd witnessed that he was witnessing.

("Good lord…")

"Hh--hhh…." His breath slowing slightly, and eyes now fixated on Rowan, Theodore tilts his head slightly.

"S-s-sssssoorry, about thAat...erhm-"

His leg jerks again banging his knee into the underside of the table making Rowan flinch but the uneasy grin on Theodores face remains stuck to it. His body vibrating with nervousness.

Rowan is cautious of another outburst--or worse, but thinks it's a good time to ask straight, after all this bizarre he'd witnessed.

"Are you on any medication right now Mr Peterson?"

The horrible grin on his face stretches even further on one side. Revealing all of his teeth that remained close mouth. Turning and pulling back his head slightly.

The silence, Rowan took as a no.

\---------

His last hope was that the interpreter he'd gotten in contact with from the files found in Peterson's home would be able to make this process at least somewhat easier.

\---

The last time Cecil had been involved with any of Theodores business was during that mess of the Golden Apple incident. After that, he didn't take on any new endeavors, and never called for services.

Rowan had filled her in on the situation, which came as something of a shock.

Detaination? In a basement? Looking into possible abuse? Kidnapping a boy? What in the world-?

Theodore doesn't look at her as Rowan returns to the room with Cecil. His moustache just enough to hide it as he bit his lip.

Cecil notices the way his arms are held back, and then the cuffs around his wrists and long black gloves. It wasn't usual for them to keep people restrained. She'd ask, but…

"Mr Peterson,"

Cecil puts a hand out to tap his shoulder causing him to jerk back but at least look at them alertly.

●”We need to ask you some questions."•

He understands the gestures she translates from Rowan's speech,

•"It's in your best option to cooperate."•

Though he still hesitated to it.

"Egh…."

Truly though there was no way to refuse. "Mmh.."

Reluctantly giving a slight nod.

\--------

He'd never wanted another meeting again. After the accident--

He was never that comfortable with adults. Or their discussions. It had just been necessary, at times to meet with them and obey their strange logic. Like now. Except now was even worse than the accident...


	3. 3

Since it seemed to Walter Rowan that Mr Peterson didn't see his actions as wrong, he decided the plan of approach would be to address the questions as if he wasn't guilty or being arrested for a serious matter. It may help with getting him to answer.  
When they'd begun, Cecil translated for Rowan's words, saying nothing, but the approach seemed questionable in her perspective.  
🖐🏿How often would you say you allowed the boys outside the basement?🖐🏿  
".......At least 3 times a week."  
🖐🏿Do you ever lose track of time?🖐🏿  
"Mmh…" Theodore squints an eye pensively, and rolls a slight shrug.  
Rowan continues regardless of no answer.  
"And what's the reason you would bring them out?"  
🖐🏿" Just a second."🖐🏿  
Cecil tentatively interjects, turning to the investigator.  
"Mr Walter, why haven't the handcuffs been removed?"  
Theodores gaze narrows focus on their faces as the conversation moves between them.  
"With Mr Petersons... Unpredictability, and history of behavioural issues. We opted to keep them on, not just for our staffs safety but his."  
"You can't make an exception?"  
He could speak, yes, but not particularly fluent. For this kind of on the spot interrogation. She felt that was against people's rights to not be given the chance to properly explain themselves.  
-Looking from the investigator to her, and back to him-  
"He had to be put on suicide watch in the first 2 hours because of his behaviour." Rowan admits straightly, "It could be a problem putting them back on if we remove them."  
\--Staring silently--  
"...I'll ask." Cecil sighs faintly  
"Ask what?"  
She turns back to Theodore signing and speaking.  
🖐🏿"Would it be easier for you to answer with Sign?"🖐🏿  
"....mmh." he gives a reluctant nod.  
Cecil turns to Rowan for his response to that.  
"We'll need to put them back on unless Mr Peterson can assure us somehow no harm will come to himself (or an officer)"  
And given what breakdown he'd witnessed, Rowan doubted that could be assured.  
\----  
They removed them anyway to his relief to be able to move his arms and hands again.  
\------  
🖐🏿" In a week, how much time would you say you spent with the boys?"🖐🏿  
Turning his head up slightly and slowly continuing to roll and flex his wrists, Theodore thinks,  
"..rrm…." He puts a hand up pensively, "Depends."  
🖐🏿"On what?"🖐🏿  
✋🏿Well… I was busy renovating.✋🏿  
🖐🏿"What made you decide to do renovations?"🖐🏿  
".mm…" ✋🏿I wanted to. And to accomodate Nicholas. He was going to have a new room.✋🏿  
"I see…"  
🖐🏿"So you left them alone alot?"🖐🏿  
✋🏿Sometimes.✋🏿  
🖐🏿"Did you feed them?"🖐🏿  
He looks incredulous that's a question.  
✋🏿Yes.✋🏿  
🖐🏿"What sort of things?"🖐🏿  
Rowan glances to the notes of the boys answer to the question to see if it matches.  
Listing off the things he could think of with his hands, Theodore replies tediously exaggerated, as if to a child.  
✋🏿We had Bread. Tomatoes. Rice noodle. Spinach. Milk. Juice. Apples. And banana.✋🏿  
Rowan glances at Cecil who had translated in matching vocal tone. Vaguely surprised the list included no more and no less than the statement given.  
🖐🏿"You would occasionally bring them up to the kitchen to eat is that correct?"🖐🏿  
It occurs to Theodore that they most definitely had gotten information from either Nicky or Aaron, and suddenly some of these questions made more sense. They were seeing if the descriptions matched.  
"Yeah."  
🖐🏿"The three of you?"🖐🏿  
"And Mary."  
🖐🏿"--Mary?"🖐🏿  
He nods.  
Eyeing the statement Nicky had given again;  
'he had a mannequin'  
Given the boy hadn't mentioned anything about other people coming or in the house, he guesses that 'Mary' was Peterson's name for the mannequin. Or. One of them. He'd mentioned multiple.  
("Right….")  
🖐🏿"Did you ever force these boys to follow you or to do anything?"🖐🏿  
"......No."  
Hmm….  
🖐🏿"Do you recall ever using a blindfold to cover their eyes?"🖐🏿  
Nicky had stated there were occasions he had blindfolded and led them along. Sometimes pulling or with squeezing grip.  
"..." Theodore squints his eyes questioningly, Cecil adds the sign for 'cloth' and 'over eyes'.  
Realisation hits.  
"Ah- If it's a Surprise. You don't want them peeking."  
"....." So he admits doing it.  
🖐🏿"What sort of 'surprise' do you mean?"🖐🏿  
✋🏿A new project. Or one not finished.✋🏿  
🖐🏿"'Project'?"🖐🏿  
✋🏿The house.✋🏿  
"..." Rowan was in disbelief of even what he need ask next.  
🖐🏿"You have a --- Rollercoaster, in the basement?"🖐🏿  
Cecil is equally baffled having to hear/sign it.  
The topic seems to pique Peterson's interest,  
"You found it did you?"  
He says, simply curious looking directly to the investigator; "Go for a ride?"  
As if it weren't totally bonkers he had built that there to begin with.  
"Er...No. no."  
Rowan shakes his head.  
"Ach.." Theodore disappointedly does the same.  
"Shame. Shame."  
If they're going to invade his Private and Secret creations they might as well do it PROPERLY.  
Who finds such amazing stuff and doesn't try using it? How boring, they must be.  
🖐🏿"Did you ever force either of them onto these machines?"🖐🏿 (As was claimed)  
"I didn't FORCE them."  
Theodore insists like the idea was silly.  
✋🏿 It's in fun. A little thrill. What's wrong with that?✋🏿  
He genuinely doesn't understand their seriousness about it.  
Rowan wasn't about to get into an off-topic conversation about how bizarre, potentially dangerous, and alienating it was. Peterson's opinion on it gave him enough information.  
🖐🏿"Did you ever harm the boys in any way?"🖐🏿  
"No."  
"........"  
Nicky had described seeing what looked like a fight between Mr Peterson and Aaron the day he broke into the home.  
And from his escape, he had multiple tears in his clothing, scrapes and bruises on his knees, hands and shins, bandage on his wrist.  
He had claimed that Mr Peterson had been physical with him at times. Before questioning his denial straight, Rowan probes the idea.  
🖐🏿"Nicholas appears to have several bruises and cuts. Could you explain that?"🖐🏿  
✋🏿…...He hurt himself running, while taking apart a machine, and on a fence.✋🏿  
🖐🏿"What can you tell me about the bandages on his wrist? How did that happen?"🖐🏿  
✋🏿He cut himself on the glass he broke and was bleeding, but he kept trying to resist putting the bandage on.✋🏿  
Theodore shakes his head thinking it foolish.  
🖐🏿"You bandaged his wrist?"🖐🏿  
He nods, ✋🏿Of course. Even though he was fussy.✋🏿  
"......." Rowan considers all the answers he'd gotten, the accuracies and differences, recording them for future reference and cross examination.  
🖐🏿"Nicholas claims you grabbed him on multiple occasions, and threw him into a room."🖐🏿  
✋🏿I grabbed him because he was misbehaving or wanted to play games.✋🏿  
🖐🏿"What sort of 'games'?"🖐🏿  
✋🏿Their favourite is hide and seek.✋🏿  
"........"  
Even now that he was getting answers, thanks to the interpreters service. Rowan was still at a debate as to what was 'wrong' with Mr Petersons head.  
He clearly didn't see it the way they did.  
And was probably likely to excuse any claims of being rough, etc, as an accident, when he was tired, or they were being a handful/at an inappropriate time.  
Nicky had testified that Mr Peterson was 'weird', and would 'pretend that everything was normal'--  
The results of these questions supported these descriptions, at the least.  
"Right…"  
Holding a sigh Rowan stands up.  
🖐🏿"I'll be back in a few minutes, we'll continue this then."🖐🏿  
Turning to the interpreter he adds, "Ms Harris? Can I speak with you a moment as well?"  
"---"  
As long as it was just about his suspicions of her interpretations. (The only thing she was allowed to speak on)  
Theodore watches silently as they go, leaving the door open ajar as they do. Room empty except for him.  
\-------  
"Ms Harris.." Rowan starts pensively, "Does Mr Peterson seem. Different at all from your knowledge?"  
"That's not really my place to say, sir, I'm an interpreter and it's against my contract to--"  
(ah.)  
He could see why she had been his choice of confidante in the past.  
"Yes, I understand that Ms Harris, but as it stands you're the only person I can ask who may be able to explain his behaviour."  
"...."  
Warily Cecil nods.  
Though to be quite honest, even if she had once worked with him for several years, Theodore had never been one to speak much about his personal life. The extent he would, didn't reach much beyond being able to discuss with her about his deafness and the difficulties it caused him, not wanting it to be something that others knew about.  
Even if she wanted to help Mr Walter get information, she couldn't offer much.  
\-------  
Glancing between the door and the book Rowan left on the desk, Theodore leans forwards, trying to see if there were anybody directly outside the room, looking between the book and the door.  
They'd been gone a little while…  
The book. Door. Book.  
Getting up, He sneaks around the desk edge and picks the book up, quickly flipping through its pages. He gathers it seemed like a rough transcript of his answers, to the questions they'd been asking him. At least it seems fairly accurate.  
Glancing to the door, he twitches, throwing the book to the desk and quickly going back to his seat as the investigator and Cecil return.  
Rowan squints his eyes slightly in suspicion, as Theodore rests his hands together, giving them a curious wide eyed grin.

\--------------

The police had known Aaron and Mya Peterson had been missing for over a year.  
Supposedly last seen playing in the yard of their Aunt Lisa's home in another state, after going there to stay for awhile after their mother's death.  
Yet now it turned out that Aaron had been at home. In Raven Brooks.  
He was the last person they needed to question.  
And argueably, the hardest to speak to.  
\---  
"Aaron? You're not in any trouble, alright?"  
Rowan begins cautiously to the distrusting boy.  
"We just want to ask you some questions."  
He glares at them with a moments silence.  
"Why."  
"We need to figure this out okay? You can help us."  
"..mmnh…" he squeezes his arm nervously.  
Their first question on it was literally the worst.  
"About your sister, Mya, what happened with you two?"  
Aaron breathes loudly. Squeezing harder on his arm. Digging his nails into it.  
The image he'd tried so hard to rip from memory, making his heart beat wildly into a full panic attack. Zoning out from the officers completely.  
He hears his father say cautiously;  
•"Noone can know what happened."•  
The memory of his repeated warnings and assurances to his breakdowns creeping up on him.  
•"They'd take you away. Forever. You understand?"•  
"....but…"  
Aaron had known it couldn't work. Not indefinitely.  
There was no way they could go on like this.  
•"It's for your protection, Aaron. Noone will know. I promise. You just have to Trust me."•

Trust you and your history of bad ideas. Okay dad. Sure. I'm a monster, and your crazy.

He breathes deeply repeatedly, hyperventilating with a wide eyed stare.  
He could barely see the very worried investigator in front of him anymore. Who was beginning to get up, or something--

•"It was an accident."•  
Nickys voice said.  
My friend. My stupid friend that didn't listen when I told him not to come back.  
•"You would Never do that to her Aaron. You loved her."•  
He screams.  
•"If there's ANYTHING your dad is Right about its that this isn't your fault. It's not."•  
He screams louder, putting his hands over his head and continuing to scream.  
It hurt so much.  
"Aaron? Aaron?"  
The voice calls, he smacks the hand away that goes to touch him, flinging himself onto the floor and scrambling away from it gasping for breath.

Rowan had no idea what to do.  
"Aaron you're going to be alright. Just calm down-"  
He steps closer to the boy that screams back raggedy "GET AWAY FROM ME!!"

There was nothing to do but listen to him.  
Kid looked like he would rip you up like a wild animal if you kept backing him into the corner he'd closed himself in.  
Stepping back from him even elicited a warning scream.  
There was no choice but to wait and try a different approach later.  
\---------  
Rowan sat on the other side of the room, propping his head up with his hand. Just thinking about what had happened, and how quickly he'd snapped. What that meant for and about the situation. Saying nothing.  
Eventually Aaron seemed to calm down more. Shaking, with his knees pressed into his chest, he croaks quietly;  
"She's missing."  
"--" Rowan raises his head at the rough little voice. "Pardon?"  
"I got out, and she didn't."  
"---" Instinct as an investigator told him to ask for further explanation and get answers, but empathy told him not to press. The boy was clearly traumatized. Probing him wasn't going to do any good. It'd just make things worse again.  
"Sorry." He says instead, not expecting a response, and turning back to his notes.  
Feeling Aaron's eyes glaring into him.  
(" So she's still missing. According to her brother. 'I got out but she didn't.' what does that mean-?")  
Rowan rechecked his records of Peterson's answers for something that might link.  
(" Claims he 'didn't do anything to hurt them, just protect, from danger' when asked to clarify what danger; 'everything'.")  
("Hmm….")  
\---Maybe it wasn't just an excuse..? Maybe Theodore really Had been just trying to protect his son, and was scared of losing him again after getting him back, with Mya still missing? They'd still have to re-examine it, and hopefully get more answers, but… Who knows..?


End file.
